


Meet me at the barre

by PrincessCharming



Category: The Witcher (TV), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types, Wiedźmin | The Witcher Series - Andrzej Sapkowski
Genre: Alternate Universe - Ballet, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Ballerina Tissaia, Ballerina Yennefer, Ballet, F/F, Giselle references, Kid Fic, Parent Tissaia, Swan Lake references, Teacher Tissaia de Vries, Yennaia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-08
Updated: 2021-02-20
Packaged: 2021-03-08 17:08:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 20,221
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27450235
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PrincessCharming/pseuds/PrincessCharming
Summary: Tissaia de Vries, principal of Aretuza Dance Academy, has her life upended by the return of one of her most difficult and beautiful former students.Yennefer/Tissaia Ballet AU.
Relationships: Minor Geralt/Jaskier, Minor Geraskier, Tissaia de Vries/Yennefer z Vengerbergu | Yennefer of Vengerberg
Comments: 82
Kudos: 158





	1. First

**Author's Note:**

> Hi everyone, I've had the idea of a Yennaia ballet AU rattling around in my head for months and it's finally come to this. There's also some side Geraskier for the lolz. Enjoy :) xx
> 
> I've included a glossary of ballet terms at the end. I did some research but any ballet mistakes are all mine. Some aspects are based on my own ballet school as a kid.

Tissaia de Vries, Principal of Aretuza Dance Academy, checked her newest text message and decided she was going to kill her friend Rita at the next opportunity.

Rita had texted to call in sick. She was probably hungover, judging by last night's drunken texting frenzy -- and there were fewer than 10 minutes before she was due to teach her afternoon Grade 2 class. _But she was ever so sorry and would Tissaia be able to teach in her place?_

Of course Tissaia was capable of covering the class for her. She was the one who had written careful lesson plans for all of the school's classes and could teach it with her eyes closed. But that wasn't the point. The point was that she did _not_ like surprises and she did _not_ like last-minute changes of plan. For her own classes she preferred at least half an hour for preparation beforehand to rehearse the lesson in her head.

Tissaia sighed to herself, thinking of the paperwork for the running of the business that she'd now have to put off until later that night. She gathered her Grade 2 notes and set off for Studio 1 in order to check the music playlist before the girls arrived. Studio 1 was a large room with sprung floorboards and wall-to-wall mirrors on the short ends. A double barre lined both long sides of the room.

As the clock neared 4.30, about a dozen 10-11 year old girls trickled in wearing the light blue leotard of the junior school, theatrical pink tights, and light pink leather ballet flats. They whispered to each other wide eyed when they saw their stern Principal waiting in place of their regular teacher whose style could generously be termed laissez-faire. 

One of the braver ones spoke up. "Miss Tissaia, where's Miss Rita today?"

"Miss Rita is unwell and very much regrets her absence. Places at the barre, girls," said Tissaia. 

She led them through their warmup exercises and then as they practiced their tendus she passed down the line correcting turnout or sickled feet as she went. It was a pleasant age to teach; the girls were old enough to have an attention span longer than a flea's but they were too young for teenage dramatics. They looked up to her without question.

It sometimes reminded Tissaia of why she'd become a dancer herself, having started at the tender age of four years, when all she’d wanted was to wear a pretty tutu and be graceful like the older girls she’d seen at her mother’s studio. Her mother had been a lauded choreographer and when she’d died Tissaia had been tapped to take over her studio. But Tissaia had opted to start her own academy.

Tissaia wanted more than to teach her students to dance. She wanted the girls passing through her school to appreciate that their bodies were capable of strength and poise, that their beauty was a result of discipline and hard work, and that the artform was about balance and control. They were beautiful. Not because of what their bodies looked like but because of what they could _do_. 

Occasionally someone special came long. A dancer who had the physical and emotional commitment necessary to master the most difficult of all dance forms, to meet every challenge thrown at her and rise even higher. Tissaia was no more and no less demanding of her dancers than she was of herself. But there was a fine line between pushing someone to succeed by wringing every drop of potential out of them and pushing them too hard until they broke.

Her academy had produced a number of success stories who had won scholarships with the Royal Ballet School or been accepted into prestigious dance companies. The high walls of the studios were lined with large posters of those alumni in various poses and costumes.

Most girls would never make it that far. Tissaia thought it doubtful that any of the current Grade 2 would end up as professional dancers let alone stars. Talent would've already been apparent by now and thus their futures lay elsewhere. Ballet would be an after school activity until they lost interest or until their parents decided it wasn't worth the expense. But one could never predict which speck of dust would form into a star, so she would teach a hundred while in search of one.

At the end of the class, Tissaia led the girls in a curtsey, then the students ran off to collect their outdoor shoes and meet their parents who were waiting in the hallway to collect them.

Tissaia didn't stop to speak with any of the parents, grateful for the excuse to bypass them. She headed straight for the smaller Studio 2 where her 5.30 private lesson would be held. It rattled her to teach back-to-back classes. Yet another reason to want to kill Rita.

* * *

  
  


"Good afternoon, girls." Tissaia greeted the four 13 year olds who were stretching at the barre. 

“Good afternoon, Miss Tissaia,” they parroted back in unison. 

At least by this age they could pronounce her name. The younger girls struggled with the succession of s’s.

They wore the turquoise leotard uniform of the senior school and instead of ballet flats they wore satin pointe shoes with ribbons wrapped around their ankles. They were still new to pointe though they’d ceased to resemble newborn giraffe foals attempting to walk for the first time. Unlike many schools, no girl with weak feet was accepted into pointe classes at Aretuza. It pissed off many students and parents but Tissaia was firm. Safety came first and that required strength.

"Continue warming up and then we'll run through the choreography for the Eisteddfod.” 

Tissaia’s eye caught on one of the girls trying to rise en pointe at the bar and went over to correct her. “Katie, you need to pull up through your knees in your relevé. Brace your core and lift up tall out of your hips. That’s better." 

The girls were learning a routine with choreography modified from the romantic classic ballet Giselle which would be performed at an upcoming competition. It was one of Tissaia's personal favourites, having debuted in the title role for the Royal Ballet over fifteen years ago.

After the first run through Tissaia could tell the girls were not getting it. She’d given them corrections several times and was weary of repeating herself. They were performing the steps of the choreography but not the acting. There was no emotion in their performances and therefore nothing for the audience to connect with. Without connection there was no story.

"What is Giselle feeling at the end of Act I?" Tissaia stopped the music to ask.

The girls fidgeted. None answered.

Tissaia hid a sigh of annoyance. She'd told them last week to read the Wikipedia entry for it and apparently none of them had. Perhaps it was too much for them to take a break from Tik Tok Toe or whatever it was called to search it up on their ever-present phones.

A new voice came from the doorway. "She's had her heart broken by her lying cheating boyfriend."

Tissaia frowned at the interruption. She turned to see a familiar, beautiful face and statuesque figure leaning against the doorway. It was Yennefer Vengerburg, alumnus of Aretuza and former ballerina at the New York City Ballet. She wore a black leather jacket and skin-tight black pants with boots. Her glossy black hair lay in loose curls around her shoulders. Her dark eyes were almost purple in the studio’s lighting.

"If you ask me she should forget him and go live her best life," said Yennefer, haughty as ever. “Maybe she should hookup with Odile instead.”

The girls giggled and shared awe amongst themselves. They may not have heard of the infamous Yennefer Vengerburg but they recognised the woman who was standing below one of her own portraits; in this one she was playing Odile, the black swan from Swan Lake, posing in a penché position wearing a beautiful black tutu adorned with tiny crystals and black feathers.

"Can I help you," said Tissaia, her brusque tone making it clear that she did not want to help her in any way. 

"I'm here to see Margarita Laux-Antille," said Yennefer.

"Wait in my office at the end of the hall. I'll be free in 15 minutes."

As soon as Yennefer left, Tissaia turned her attention back to her students but they were still in awe of the star in their midst. 

"Was that her? The lady from the poster?" A blonde girl called Kendall gushed.

"Yes," said Tissaia _. And you'd do well to emulate nothing about her except her penché._

In her mind she did _not_ consider Yennefer a success story, not after what had happened and the rumours surrounding why she'd abandoned her posting after getting everything she’d claimed to want. Tissaia had given that girl a myriad of opportunities, had poured time and attention into her, and she didn’t much care what excuses Yennefer had for wasting them.

"Now, girls. Act I. Giselle has found out that her lover Albrecht is not a peasant, he's a prince in disguise and is already engaged to be married. Giselle is heartbroken and mad with grief..."

* * *

  
  


When Tisssia returned to her office after everyone else had left for the night she saw Yennefer sitting in her chair with her long legs propped up on the edge of the desk. Despite the obvious contempt for her personal space or proprietary of any kind, she refused to let her irritation show. 

It had been years since she’d seen Yennefer in person. There was nothing left of the gawky angry teenager who got frustrated easily and smarted at every correction that came her way. She had acquired a confidence bordering on the smug. It was difficult not to notice that Yennefer, who must have been in her mid-to-late 20s by now, had only grown in beauty in her adulthood. She was stunning.

"I'll thank you never to interrupt one of my classes again, Miss Vengerburg. Get your boots off my desk."

"Sorry," said Yennefer, sounding anything but as she got up and went to sit in the guest seating. "So where's Rita? Have you buried her under the floorboards yet or what."

Tissaia claimed her chair and shuffled some papers across her desk. "Off sick. What is your business with her?"

"She offered me a job here."

Tissaia choked. She had indeed delegated to Rita the task of finding a new casual teacher to cover some classes after one of their regulars went off on maternity leave. Yennefer Vengerburg would’ve been the last dancer she’d have contacted regarding the job. As far as she knew Yennefer had no teaching experience. That Yennefer would even be interested in such work as a surprise in itself. It was odd that she had started a promising career with a ballet company and then dropped off the radar, only to surface now, back at her hated alma mater Aretuza applying for a teaching job.

"And you have accepted?" said Tissaia, keeping a measured tone.

"I suppose you'll pull rank and overrule her."

"Should I?"

Yennefer shrugged, unconcerned. "I can teach anything you want me to. Classical, lyrical, hiphop, whatever. I need a job. Rent to pay, shoes to buy, you know how it is.” 

A beat passed as Tissaia considered whether to take the opportunity to cast her out now.

"You'll need a police check to work here. It can take a couple of weeks-"

"Already got one. I'll email it to you."

Suppressing a sigh, she reached into her tray and retrieved a stack of forms. She held them out for Yennefer to take. "Fill these out and return them by tomorrow. Class timetable is on top, your classes are highlighted in yellow. You need to be in the studio a minimum of 45 minutes before each class. I will audit your teaching without advance notice. No swearing, no gum, no high heels in the studio. No exceptions."

Yennefer sighted the schedule and scoffed. "Friday 3pm 'Tots and tutus'? You want me to teach _baby ballet_?"

“You just said that you could teach anything.”

“Yeah but-” Yennefer made a face. “I’m not good with kids.”

“I’m not sure if you have noticed but this is a ballet school. It is full of children. If that is a problem I suggest you look elsewhere for employment.”

Yennefer plastered on a smile. “No, it’s fine. I’m sure the tots are great and not at all annoying or covered in snot.”

* * *

Yennefer had never been nervous a day in her life and she was not nervous now. It was nearing time for her to teach her first ballet class for 3-4 year olds and she had no idea what she was going to do with them yet. 

They were literal babies. What was she supposed to teach them for fuck’s sake? They couldn’t remember how to put their shoes on let alone learn basic positions for the feet and arms. 

What if one of them started crying? Fuck, what if they _all_ starting crying?

Yennefer had no experience with kids. She had no family, had never babysat, and knew no-one who had any. Unless Geralt could be counted since his much younger boyfriend Jaskier was like an overgrown child (not that she’d met him yet). She loved kids though. Well, she loved the idea of maybe perhaps having a child of her own one day. She would adore her own child. Her child would be awesome. Other people's children were irritating.

Yennefer was waiting in Studio 2 until tiny children began to arrive accompanied by a parent, usually a mum but sometimes a dad or grandparent, who led them right to the door and kissed them goodbye. Soon enough the room was full of babies, some of them running around with more energy that Yennefer could ever remember having herself. Most of them wore pink tulle skirts or princess costumes. One girl was dressed as Rey from Star Wars.

It was adorable. Yennefer felt her heart squee and ordered it to shut the fuck up.

"Hello, little dancers." Yennefer clapped her hands and then got them to quiet down and line up in front of her. "My name is Miss Yennefer. Who here likes to dance? Hands up."

A dozen little hands flew up. Followed by a chorus of “Me!”

"Who likes stories?"

Same result.

Yennefer leaned over as if to tell them a secret. "Did you know that dancing is telling a story with your body? That's what we're going to do today with some help from a box of special things..."

She put on some music from Fantasia and had them pretend to be flowers and leaves blowing in the wind. It was a bit chaotic but they seemed to enjoy flying around with their arms out, pretending to be blown in all directions by their own imaginary gusts of wind.

The class was half over when Yennefer noticed there was one girl sitting in the corner who hadn't been participating. 

"That's Sophie," one of the other little girls informed her. "She never wants to dance with us. She’s mean."

Yennefer got the class to practice tippy toes and headed over to the lone girl. She crouched down on the floor to get down on her level. She was a pretty little thing with light hair, steel-coloured eyes and a serious face that seemed familiar somehow. Unlike the rest of the girls, she wore the junior school uniform leotard and proper ballet shoes instead of glittery costume flats from Target.

"Hi my name's Yennefer, what's yours?"

"Sophie," the tiny voice said.

"Do you want to come practice tippy toes with your friends?"

The little girl shook her head. She looked worried that she was going to get in trouble.

"It's ok if you want to watch until you're ready. If you see something that looks fun and you want to join in you come on over any time, ok?"

Sophie nodded. Yennefer decided the kid was fine and returned to reign in what had escalated into a game of chasey. The kids were squealing at the top of their lungs. Fuck. Hopefully Tissaia wouldn't choose now to drop in and see how she was faring. No doubt she could hear the ruckus from wherever she was. Time for a quieter activity. Maybe she could get them to pretend to be corpses or something. 

The rest of the class passed in a blur and before she knew it Yennefer was greeting parents as they came to collect their precious little ones. One of the mothers wanted to interrogate her on the curriculum plans for the year and Yennefer decided that as annoying as kids could be their over-involved parents were much worse. 

Once it was quiet and everyone had left, Yennefer was returning the props (ribbons, scarves, bouncy balls) back to the box when she noticed a little shadow had crept up on her. Sophie picked up each ribbon, rolled it up in a neat roll, and then put it in the box with the precision of a neurosurgeon.

"Thanks for helping, Sophie," said Yennefer, offering the little girl a smile and a high-five. 

_Was that still cool?_ she wondered. _Did four year olds care about what was cool yet?_

She eyed the wall clock, noting the time.

"Who comes to collect you, is it Mummy?"

Sophie nodded.

"Hmm. It's getting a bit late. Do you know her phone number?"

Sophie’s face was blank. Yennefer gave herself an internal facepalm, remembering that she often forgot her own phone number and she was a grownass adult (supposedly). She had no idea whether four year olds had even learned their numbers yet.

"Ok. Let's go to Miss Tissaia's office and we’ll give Mum a call to see if she's running late."

Yennefer felt her heart melt a little when Sophie reached out to take her hand. God this kid was a sweetheart. They walked together out of Studio 2, down the hall, and towards the Principal's office. The halls were empty as there were no more classes on a Friday afternoon. Tissaia's raised voice was coming from the open door of her office. She was on the phone to someone and she was _not_ happy.

"... it’s not possible without restructuring the entire business model. They've already had to make significant compromises in order to survive. I've explained this to Stregobor at length but he insists that a merger with Ban Ard is impossible... No! As I've said, it's not viable from a financial perspective otherwise..."

Yennefer and Sophie waited in the doorway until she finished her phone call. When Tissaia hung up she noticed them and stood up, surprised. Yennefer was about to explain the need to look up a file for a contact number, when Sophie ran to and held her arms up at Tissaia who picked the girl up and settled her on her hip.

"Oh dear, it's well after 3:30." Tissaia seemed dismayed. "I'm so sorry I'm late, darling."

The two of them looked at Yennefer with twin expressions on their faces.

Oh.

_Oh._

The penny dropped for Yennefer. Sophie was Tissaia's daughter! She realised now why the girl seemed so familiar, her face was just like her mother's: pointed, pretty features with the same colouring and identical serious demeanor. Whoever the father was he didn’t get a look in.

She had no idea that Tissaia had had a kid. After leaving Aretuza she hadn't looked back or kept in touch with anyone so she hadn’t heard. Yennefer wondered whether Tissaia was married and found herself trying to catch a glimpse of a ring finger. Not that she was at all interested in whether Tissaia was single.

"Did you have fun in Miss Yennefer's class," Tissaia asked Sophie.

Sophie nodded.

Yennefer wondered if the kid ever spoke. It occurred to her that Tissaia might not know that her daughter was sitting on the sidelines instead of participating in class. It wouldn't be her that ratted Sophie out though. Undermining Tissaia was a skill of hers that went way back.

Tissaia stared at Yennefer as if daring her to say something. “Is there anything you need, Miss Vengerburg?”

It was a dismissal. Yennefer decided there was no reason to hang around so she shook her head and took her leave. She gave Sophie a wave and a wink as she headed out. The little girl waved back. _At least one of them likes me,_ thought Yennefer. 

* * *

  
  


It was Friday night and the end of the first day at her new job so Yennefer was keen to celebrate. The other day she’d phoned up an old friend who still lived in town and they’d decided to meet up at a bar for drinks tonight. It wasn’t far from where she was renting so walking home sloshed wasn’t out of the question.

Geralt and his partner were already seated at a booth when she arrived. He got up to engulf her in a giant bear hug and then introduced her to Jaskier who greeted her with a cheek kiss and a looking-over. She joined them in the booth and shrugged off her black leather jacket revealing a tight black dress. It turned out that the bar wasn’t too dark and dingy, though the stickiness of the floor under her boots spoke for its cleanliness or lack thereof.

“I see now why you’ve kept us apart, Geralt,” said Jaskier. He spoke to Yennefer conspiratorially as though she were a kindred spirit. “Shall we gang up on him and make his life a misery?”

Geralt groaned. Yennefer laughed.

Geralt was an incredible danseur but he was retired now. She’d known him for years, since she was at Aretuza and he was at Ban Ard, and they had dated briefly before realising they were both gay. They carried on the charade for a while since it helped sell their chemistry to an audience and everyone seemed to expect it since they were both good-looking and talented. Geralt was tall, built strong, and now wore his long prematurely-grey hair in a ponytail. Yennefer had left him behind with the rest of her past when she’d moved overseas to New York. She was glad to see that he had found a real partner and seemed happy.

“Haven’t heard from you in a while,” said Geralt. “What brings you back, Yen?”

Yennefer gave them the story she told everyone. “I got tired of New York and came back home to find work. I’m teaching at Aretuza now, today was my first day.”

“Aretuza?” Jaskier’s eyebrows raised. “Is that old bag still running the place like it’s a military base? I used to do piano accompaniment for the exams there. Scary.”

Yennefer fought a grin at the word ‘old’. “Tissaia de Vries? She’s 35 if she's a day. But yeah, she’s still there.”

“Hmm,” said Geralt. He was looking at Yennefer with one of those perceptive looks that he had from knowing her too well from too young an age. She could never hide anything from him. Godammit now they would never get off this topic. 

“What,” said Yennefer, rolling her eyes.

“How’s that working out... you and your old mentor? Thought you two didn’t get along.”

“We get along fine when she’s not criticising every aspect of my existence. We’ve barely interacted since I came back. I’m sure it won’t be a problem.”

Jaskier looked back-n-forth between the two of them as though he were at a tennis match. “Wait a minute. What’s going on with Yen and the scary lady.”

“Nothing,” said Yennefer, and noticed Geralt still staring at her. “There’s nothing going on!”

“Ohhh!” said Jaskier, lighting up like Christmas. “I get it. Yen has a big lesbian crush on her teacher.”

Geralt nodded, folding his arms. “Pretty much.”

Yennefer let her face drop onto the table and regretted it after feeling her forehead and hands stick to the surface. It was a mistake to come here. Geralt had been the first one she’d confessed to about her feelings and her realisation that she was a lesbian and she had been grateful he was so good about it. Not that she enjoyed having her gay awakening thrown in her face now. Besides, that was years ago. She wasn’t still hung up on Tissaia. She wasn’t!

Jaskier went on teasing her. “So is she single? What am I talking about. Of course she is, she’s way too uptight to be getting laid on the regular. But is she of the Sapphic persuasion?”

“She has a kid now,” said Yennefer. “Probably a husband for all I know.”

“Ah. Straight then. Shame,” said Jaskier.

Geralt grunted in the negative. “There’s no husband. He left her.”

“Oho!” Jaskier perked up. “This is brand new information.”

With her silence Yennefer tried to hide the fact that she was interested in the gossip as well. The ballet community wasn’t that big after all, so it wasn’t a huge surprise that Geralt had heard something about Tissaia’s personal life. But of course she couldn’t grill him without confirming that she was indeed interested. Jaskier had no such reservations.

“Tell us everything you know or I’ll dump you on your lovely bottom,” said Jaskier.

“Was a few years ago,” Geralt explained. “Ex was cheating on her for a year I heard. Everyone knew but her. Stopped teaching for a few months and came back with a baby. Don’t think the ex has been around since.”

“Ugh, men!” said Jaskier, disgusted. “I mean, hashtag not all men, obviously. But straight men can suck my dick.”

Yennefer wondered who had been both lucky enough to be married to Tissaia and stupid enough to cheat on her. Regardless, whoever this ex was he was making a rapid ascent to the top of her shit list. Who could abandon not only Tissaia but beautiful little Sophie? What a fucking moron the ex must be. Yennefer felt protective of both of them, not that she had any right to. 

Their first round of drinks arrived and as they got more tipsy the conversation steered towards other topics. Before long, Jaskier was singing.

Later that night, or rather, early the next morning when Yennefer stumbled into bed she stayed up longer to do a Google image search for “Tissaia de Vries ballet” and saved every single glamour shot, performance cap, and press interview photo to her phone. 

Yennefer’s last thought before falling into an exhausted sleep was _She’s still the most gorgeous woman I’ve ever seen. I’m so fucked._

  
  



	2. Second

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm blown away by the amazing reception to this story! Thank you so much to everyone who has read, left kudos, or commented so far. Enjoy :)x

Yennefer’s first few weeks teaching at Aretuza passed in a blur. In addition to her timetabled hours she was asked to cover extra classes. She wasn’t sure whether Tissaia was testing her statement that she could teach “anything” but so far she’d taught just about every grade of classical ballet as well as lyrical, open, stretch, and adult beginners. 

In fact, she was getting so much work that her side-job at the cafe wasn’t necessary, which allowed her to avoid the dreaded weekend brunch shifts. Being able to quit a mediocre job was satisfying in itself. She'd decimated her meagre savings on international moving costs but her bank account was starting to look healthy again.

Her interactions with Tissaia were minimal since she was always busy in her office, poring over spreadsheets and often on the phone having heated conversations.

Yennefer finally met up with Rita in person. She knew her briefly but not well from her student days at Aretuza. Upon talking with her it was clear that her life goal was to be a foil to Tissaia’s strict oversight, which Yennefer could identify with, but she was teaching less now that she’d found a new beau to travel with. Rita gave her a sly look whenever Tissaia’s name came up and she kept making comments about how stressed the Principal looked at the end of each day as though Yennefer was supposed to do something about it. Yennefer was already avoiding Tissaia when possible so she thought it wasn’t fair to blame her.

Sophie was an ever-present joy. Most days the little girl could be found sitting in the corner of some class or other. 

One time Yennefer was teaching an open class (composed of older teenagers, some adults, and a few of the more talented students from the younger grades) when she noticed Sophie get up and join the class for centre work for the first time.

Yennefer didn’t want to say anything, not even praise, in case it spooked the girl but it was apparent that Sophie could dance. She knew the basic positions already and as she followed along with the rest of the older girls while they performed port de bras Yennefer noted that the four year old already had a sense of artistry reminiscent of her mother’s.

Why Sophie was relegated to baby ballet when she could cut it in Grade 1 was a mystery.

Everyone at the studio seemed to adore Sophie but the little girl didn’t preen under the effusive compliments about her cuteness or stay still long enough for hugs. Sophie seemed to be in her own world most of the time watching, wandering, and taking in what was going on around her. 

One afternoon the studio was empty except for Yennefer, who was working in the larger room by herself marking out steps across the floor. Tissaia had handed over to her the task of choreographing one of the routines that was planned for an upcoming competition. One of their senior girls, Sabrina Glevissig, would be performing a pas de deux with a boy from Ban Ard. 

Yennefer had been surprised that Tissaia would relinquish creative control over it and trust her in the first place. She decided to put her own spin on it, hoping to impress her (if that was even possible). It would be a tall order since Tissaia’s mother had been a renowned choreographer before she’d died and Yen had more experience following chorey than devising it. But if this was another of Tissaia’s tests she would pass or die in the attempt rather than fail in front of her former mentor. 

Sophie wandered into Studio 1 and came up to her. Like always she was wearing her junior ballet uniform.

“Hey, Sophie,” said Yennefer, while she stepped out a section of the chorey. “Whatcha doin?”

Sophie shrugged. “Nothing,” she sang.

“Do you want to help me?”

Seeing Sophie nod with enthusiasm, Yennefer decided to take a break and entertain the kid and have some fun. She had Sophie pretend to be the girl to Yennefer’s boy and ran through some turns, holding Sophie’s little hands above her head in fifth while she pretended to spin like a music box dancer. 

“And then I’ll pick you up like this,” said Yennefer, putting her splayed palm on Sophie’s tummy and scooped her up into the air like an airplane. “Arms out in third, Soph. Left leg derriere. Straighter. That’s it.”

Sophie giggled the whole time. Yennefer swung her around a bit, vocalising some “nyoom”s, and then set her back on the ground. 

“You’re silly,” said Sophie, grinning up at her.

Yennefer dropped her mouth open in exaggerated shock and propped her hands on her hips. “Me?! That breaks my heart. I was trying my best to be super-duper serious.”

“No, you weren’t!”

“Ok, let’s try something else. Arms up. Jump!” Yennefer picked her up again, this time by the waist and threw the tiny body over her shoulder so that Sophie was hanging down over her back with her bottom in the air. She spun around while holding the girl’s legs tight to her own chest -- fearing that Tissaia would eviscerate her if she ended up dropping the kid on her head. Sophie, unafraid of her mother’s wrath, was giggling the whole time.

That was how Tissaia found them. Yennefer stopped dead when she saw her boss standing in the doorway watching them with an unreadable expression on her face. Shit. Was she mad? Despite how long she’d known her it was hard to tell. 

Yennefer let Sophie down and waited to see if she was going to be fired.

Sophie ran over to Tissaia and wrapped her arms around her waist. “Mummy, I’m hungry. Can we go yet?”

“We’re going home for dinner soon,” said Tissaia, smoothing her daughter’s hair. “Say thank you to Miss Yennefer for minding you, please.”

Sophie leaned over backwards, sang “Thank you”, then jumped with excitement. “Can Miss Yennefer come for dinner?”

A beat passed and the two adults exchanged an awkward glance. Yennefer figured that she was the last thing that Tissaia would want to take home from work with her. And she wasn’t sure whether she could handle sitting there all night knowing that Tissaia was putting up with her because her kid wanted a new playmate. 

Before Tissaia could make up an excuse Yennefer jumped to the rescue. “I’m sorry, Soph, I can’t tonight.”

“Oh.” Sophie pouted. “Ok.”

Yennefer scrambled, kicking herself for having to disappoint the kid. “I have a date!” she blurted out. “It would be rude to cancel this late so yeah… Thanks for the offer though.”

“Perhaps another time then,” said Tissaia, her impassive face unmarred by emotion. “You may leave now, Miss Vengerburg. Wouldn’t want you to be late for your date.”

With that Tissaia turned on her heel and headed back for her office with Sophie following her like a duckling. Yennefer made quick work of grabbing her things and left, making sure to let the front door close with a solid noise on her way out so that Tissaia would know she was gone without having to say goodbye.

* * *

  
  


As soon as they got home Sophie bolted inside and went to her room to play with her toys. 

Tissaia headed to the kitchen and set about making dinner for them both. Something quick and easy, she decided. Unfortunately there were no leftovers in the freezer because her usual weekend process of cooking and stocking up for the week had been thwarted by having to work all day last Sunday. 

Not only did she have to schedule and organise this year’s Classical exams for a hundred children -- a major logistic operation -- but the financial statements were due to be submitted soon too. She’d fired her accountant not long ago because he turned out to be an incompetent moron who had underestimated her tax payments for the past three years so now she had a giant bill looming.

It wasn’t looking good. Things had been difficult since her husband had left her nothing but debts and a broken heart. In hindsight she’d been stupid to trust the smooth-talking arsehole when she'd agreed to take out the home loan in her name only on top of the business expenses. Between her ex and Stregobor (the Principal of the boys' school Ban Ard) men were sure doing their utmost to screw her over financially.

Tissaia sliced vegetables at the kitchen bench and mulled over her situation for the nth time. For weeks she’d been trying to come up with a creative way to ease their financial pressures. 

She couldn’t raise the class fees again. They were already on par with other extra-curricular activities like team sports and martial arts. Any further fee increase and the parents would yank their kids out of class faster than you could say “Capezio”. And she couldn’t in good conscience lower the hourly rate she paid the casual teachers like Yennefer who no doubt had rent and bills of their own. It wouldn’t be fair for others to bear the brunt of her financial difficulties. 

But affording the tax bill on top of her mortgage and the extensive public liability insurance was a problem. Cash flow was modest but money was tight. 

Tissaia couldn’t bear the thought of losing her school. It was all she had. Well, apart from Sophie. 

“Sophie!” she called out. “Go wash your hands please. Dinner’s ready.”

Sophie had to be called twice more before she was reluctantly parted from her toys to attend the dinner table. It was just the two of them but Tissaia preferred for them to sit at the table rather than eat dinner in front of the TV. That way there were fewer distractions and she could more easily convince Sophie to eat her food. 

“Eat your carrots, sweetheart,” Tissaia reminded her daughter. 

Sophie complained. “But they’re yucky.”

“Well, eat the other veggies then. You’re a big girl now.”

It was only the promise of an extra story before bedtime that Sophie could be convinced to eat some of her carrot sticks. But a win was a win. After dinner she gave Sophie a bath and dressed her in her favourite Paw Patrol pyjamas. At bedtime Tissaia read the promised stories while thinking of all of the tasks she had planned to do after Sophie went to bed. She fought a yawn. 

“Mummy?” Sophie said in a sleepy voice.

“Yessy?” said Tissaia.

“Can I see Miss Yennefer tomorrow?”

“Miss Yennefer won’t be at the studio tomorrow. She doesn’t have any classes.”

“Mmph.” Sophie frowned with her eyes closed, just about to drop off to sleep. 

Her daughter wasn’t happy about not getting to see her newest favourite person. Not only was Yennefer an asset to Aretuza’s teaching staff but she’d even managed to bring Sophie out of her shell and for that Tissaia was grateful. She’d never seen her daughter as animated as what she’d witnessed this afternoon at the studio. Yennefer had been working but she'd taken the time to play with Sophie and even seemed to be enjoying it herself. 

“How about we ask Miss Yennefer over for dinner on Saturday. Would you like that?”

“Yeah,” Sophie smiled, eyes fluttering closed. And then she was gone to the land of nod.

“Goodnight, sweetheart.” Tissaia whispered and bent over to kiss her daughter’s forehead. She wanted to fall into bed herself but there was still too much to do -- and now she had to plan a dinner as well. 

The prospect of having Yennefer over didn’t seem a burden on her non-existent free time. But then she remembered that Yennefer had gone on a date tonight and reminded herself that, even if she agreed to come over, it wouldn’t be to see her it would only be for Sophie's sake.

* * *

Yennefer kept up the ruse of going out for a dinner ‘date’ but she had no romantic prospects for the evening. She met up with Geralt and Jaskier and they’d agreed not to meet at the same bar again. Geralt had questioned its stickiness over the group chat only to be met with Jaskier’s chastisement that he “never noticed anything”. The Polish club that Geralt suggested turned out to be even dingier yet served decent food.

“So. Spill.” said Jaskier, taking a sip of his cocktail. “How’s things going with the scary ballet lady?”

“Nothing’s going on,” said Yennefer, annoyed. “I’ve told you before. I’ve barely talked to her and also she hates me.”

“Bah! What’s not to love? You’ve got this whole ‘thing’ going on. Not sure what it is but it’s going. If I were a repressed old schoolmarm I’d be into it for sure.”

Yennefer suppressed the urge to flick some of her drink in his face with her straw when Geralt returned carrying their plates of pierogi and kopytka, both of which looked delicious, and a bowl of cabbage parcels floating in watery reddish soup that looked heinous and smelled even worse.

“What’d I miss?” said Geralt, eyeing the two of them as he took his chair beside his partner. 

“Dating War Command,” said Jaskier. “Yen was just about to fill us in on the plans she has for getting into Tissaia’s tutu.”

“Fuck off,” Yennefer grumbled. “It’s not going to happen.”

“Not with that attitude.”

Geralt cut in. “Why do you think she wouldn’t be interested in you?”

Yennefer rolled her eyes. “Because I’m an enormous disappointment.”

"So you _have_ slept with her," said Jaskier.

Incensed, Yennefer picked up a dumpling and threw it at him. It smacked him in the chest and left a stain on his shirt. Before he could retaliate Geralt grabbed Jaskier's hand on its way to his bowl of borscht or whatever the fuck it was. A truce was therefore in force and the three of them started eating their meals instead of eyeing them as potential projectiles.

Geralt grunted. "Got some news. I adopted a kid."

"As in, a goat? Or an actual human child," asked Yennefer, shocked at how casually it was announced.

Jaskier nodded at the second option. "Actual human child. Well, she's loud enough to be part banshee so who knows."

Geralt reached into his pocket for his phone, made a few swipes, and showed Yen the screen. It was a photo of a cute little girl with white blonde hair and green eyes, maybe a toddler? Yen wasn't good at telling kids ages but she thought the girl looked younger than Sophie. Maybe two or three years old?

Geralt explained. "Cousin and his wife died a few weeks back, left behind their two year old daughter. Never met him. No other family so they tracked me down and got lawyers involved. Had our first meeting the other day. Name's Ciri."

"Congratulations. I'm happy for you." Yennefer managed to convey sincerity. A tiny part of her, deep down inside, was envious and she squished it down further as deep as it would go.

Jaskier smiled at his partner and put his hand over his heart. "You should've seen them. It was the first time she'd seen Geralt, this tall hulking dude in head-to-toe black leather, and she's looking at him with these enormous wide green eyes. He picked her up and she fell asleep on his chest like a kitten. I just about died of the cute."

"Screamed bloody murder when it was time to leave. Don't know what I'm in for," Geralt said with a shrug. Already he had that insecure look of a new father.

Yennefer pressed her lips into a wistful smile. "I'm sure you'll figure it out. Kids have a way of worming their way into your heart whether you like it or not."

* * *

  
  


Yet another day passed with Tissaia chained to her desk in her studio office getting financial statements in order for submission. She was deep in thought, checking everything on paper against the spreadsheet showing on her computer screen, when she heard an urgent knock. She looked up briefly to see Yennefer holding the doorway, looking worried.

“Have you seen Sophie?” Yennefer said in a rush. “Is she supposed to be here somewhere? Because she’s not in Studio 1 or 2. I checked the change rooms but I can’t find her anywhere-” 

Tissaia held up a hand to halt her. “She’s at preschool today.”

“Oh!” Yennefer exhaled in sheer relief. “Shit. I just about had a heart attack.”

It was warming that someone other than her was looking out for her daughter. Tissaia felt confident letting Sophie wander around the Studios when she knew the other teachers were around and she kept an eye on her by dropping into classes herself. But it didn’t prevent the guilt she felt that her daughter was often left to her own devices.

Tissaia explained. “I’m still deciding whether to send her to school next term, she’s right on the age cutoff. But she needs to be around children her own age.” 

“Is that why you’ve got her in baby ballet?”

“Yes. I don’t want to push her through the exam grades before she’s ready.” _Like they did with you._

Tissaia expected Yennefer to leave now that it was established that her little friend wasn’t here, but she joined her in the small office and collapsed into the guest chair. Her classes were done for the day, Tissaia knew, and yet she still hadn’t left. It caught her attention how nicely the black three-quarter sleeved shirt that Yennefer wore contrasted with her skin tone and she noted the outlines of an elastic knee-support under tight black leggings. 

Tissaia wondered whether Yennefer had been injured while at NYCB. Knees were a common and sometimes fatal injury to a ballet career, especially when one had natural hypermobility in several joints like Yennefer did. Hyperextension put a dancer at an increased risk but created beautiful lines in the legs. The posters of Yennefer on the studio walls were a testament to that. The camera loved her as much as audiences did.

Tissaia caught herself and commanded her brain to return to the work at hand.

“Have you finished testing me yet?” said Yennefer.

“I don’t know what you mean,” said Tissaia, distracted by the process of adding her signature to one of the many forms on her desk.

“You’ve given me most of the timetable to teach by myself, I’m here just about every day, covering classes for you and Rita. I assume you decided to throw me into the deep end to see if I would drown.”

“I thought you needed the money.”

“Nope. To be honest I’m working out of abject boredom . I get enough cash via Instagram these days, now that they’ve finally decided to pay me.”

_What?_ Tissaia looked up in surprise and frowned at her. “How? Isn’t that for selfies and food pictures?”

“There’s this marketing bullshit called ‘influencing’. I have a bunch of followers so I get paid to post photos of my feet or whatever.”

“Your feet.” Tissaia echoed. “So it’s a… sexual thing?”

“No!” Yennefer burst out with a laugh that made her whole face glow. “My feet in _ballet shoes_. I’m getting paid by Capezio and So Danca, sometimes Bloch fashion wear. They send me free stuff and pay me to post photos wearing their brand.”

"So it’s modelling."

"Basically, yeah." Yennefer tilted her head, weighing up whether to ask something. "Why doesn't Aretuza have an online presence? I looked. You haven't set up any socials."

"I don't have time.” Tissaia confessed. “Or the expertise, and I would not trust Rita with anything to do with the internet."

Yennefer shrugged. "I’ll do it if you want. I could set up an Instagram account, Facebook page, Tik Tok videos... post a few things a week. It's great advertising. Parents love that shit."

"Do they."

"Er… I guess I wouldn't know. But the kids like it."

Tissaia tried to smile but felt pained at having to refuse. She was vaguely aware that Social Media Manager was a job that people got paid for but it was an expense far out of her budget for the foreseeable future. The casual teaching expense was already out of control because she’d had to pay Yennefer to cover the classes that she was too busy to teach herself now.

"Thank you, it sounds like a good idea but the school budget can't afford it at the moment." 

"No, I mean,” Yennefer stammered, nodding to make her point. “I'll do it for you. It's not going to cost anything."

"Are you sure…”

“Yeah, of course. Not like I have anything better to do in my spare time.”

“I thought you were dating,” Tissaia blurted out before she could stop herself. She immediately regretted it because Yennefer became even more flustered, unable to meet her apologetic eyes with her amethyst-coloured ones. Her intention had been to be considerate of the young woman’s time and goodwill. Of course someone like Yennefer -- young, beautiful, and lively -- would have an active social and romantic life... Was she really not dating anyone?

“No, I uh… kind of lied,” admitted Yennefer. “There’s no-one. Not for a while.”

“Oh. I apologise for prying.”

“No, it’s fine. Anyway, I better head off.”

With that, Yennefer pressed her lips into a fake smile, exaggerating her intention to leave by grabbing her bag and jumping up. She was acting strange. She was halfway out the door and about to escape into the hall when Tissaia suddenly remembered her promise to Sophie. 

Tissaia got up and called after her back. “Yennefer?”

Yennefer appeared in the doorway again, looking almost… vulnerable. “Um, yeah?”

“Would you like to have dinner with us on Saturday? Sophie would love to spend some time with you. If you don’t mind that is.”

“That’d be great. I’ll be there.” Yennefer gave her a wide smile. 

As she turned to leave Yennefer bumped into the doorway on her way out and Tissaia wondered whether her former student’s proprioception was impaired. She’d never known Yennefer to be uncoordinated, having spent years training her body and senses to perfection. Sometimes it happened after an injury though, and she struggled to think of any other reason why Yennefer would leave a prestigious company this early in her career. But New York’s loss was Aretuza’s gain.

Though no-one was there to see it, for the rest of the afternoon while she worked until the time she was due to pick up Sophie from preschool, Tissaia had a real smile on her face and something to look forward to.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pas des deux - “step of two”, dance duet usually with male and female pairing  
> Basic positions - for the feet and arms named: first, second, third, fourth, fifth  
> Port de bras - controlled movement of the arms  
> Derriere - (direction) to the back  
> Capezio, So Danca, Bloch - brands of ballet shoes and clothing  
> Hyperextension - when a joint extends beyond the normal angle (e.g., knees that extend beyond 180 degrees)  
> Proprioception - a person’s sense of awareness of their body’s position and movement
> 
> Pierogi - filled dumplings  
> Kopytka - potato dumplings  
> Borscht - a cold beetroot soup that my mother threatens to make


	3. Third

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much for reading and thanks to those who've left kudos and comments. Enjoy :)x

_It’s not a date, it’s not a date,_ Yennefer chanted in her mind and told herself to calm the fuck down. 

It was Saturday evening and she was standing at the front door of the de Vries house trying to get up the courage to knock. Her heart was fluttering in her chest as though she were meeting someone new for a first date, which was ridiculous because this was anything but. She’d known Tissaia for much of her life and the invitation had come at her daughter’s behest. 

The cellophane wrapping around the bouquet crinkled as she swapped it into the crook of her elbow in order to knock. 

Tissaia answered the door and Yennefer was once again struck in the chest by how beautiful she was. She looked the same as always, though perhaps a bit more relaxed. She was wearing light blue jeans and a sapphire blouse that looked amazing against her auburn hair and her light skin tone. Even after all these years, it was like seeing her for the first time and it took her breath away.

“Hey,” Yennefer croaked, then kicked herself for clamming up like a total loser. She’d spent her entire adolescence backtalking this woman yet now she couldn’t get two words out around her.

“Hi.” Tissaia smiled, revealing her dimples, and held the door open wide. “Come on in.”

Yennefer held out the flowers and the bottle of white wine that she had also brought. Tissaia gave her a quizzical look at which she gave a sheepish shrug since she had forgotten to ask whether she needed to bring anything to go with dinner. Flowers and wine screamed ‘date’ but she hadn’t been able to convince herself to turn up without them. 

As she followed Tissaia to the kitchen, where something delicious must’ve been cooking judging by the wonderful aroma, Yennefer cast her eye over the house which was tidy (of course) and inviting. Tissaia went to the sink to unwrap the flowers and put them into a glass vase.

The rapid patter of little feet slapping on floorboards came from down the hall. 

“Incoming,” said Tissaia, sending a knowing look at Yennefer. “Someone’s very excited to see you. She’s been talking about you all day.”

“Miss Yen! Miss Yen!” 

An excited Sophie came running and slammed into Yennefer’s legs for a hug. For once she wasn’t wearing a ballet uniform but a pair of pink shorts and a blue t-shirt with a dog’s paw print logo on it. Her thin blond hair was pulled into tiny pigtails at the sides of her head.

“Hey Soph, how are you?” said Yennefer.

“Gooood,” the little girl sang. “Come see my room!”

“Sophie.” Tissaia stopped her with a warning. “You can show Miss Yennefer your room after dinner. We’re about to sit down and eat now.”

The three of them sat at the square four-seater dining table and Tissaia served their meals. The amazing-smelling food turned out to be roast chicken and baked vegetables, the sight of which made Yennefer’s mouth water. It didn’t surprise her at all that Tissaia could cook well -- she approached everything in life with discipline. The first bite was heaven on a fork.

Sophie supplied most of the conversation during dinner, chattering away about preschool and ballet and someone called Skye. Yennefer had no idea what she was going on about until Tissaia clued her in that Skye was a puppy from a kids’ TV show called Paw Patrol. Apparently Skye was the best because she was a girl and wore pink.

Sophie was appalled by Yennefer’s ignorance. “You don’t know what Paw Patrol is?!”

The other half of the dinner conversation consisted of Tissaia trying to convince Sophie to eat her carrots and beans. Listening to the cajoling and bargaining going on, Yennefer was ready to declare Tissaia a saint for her patience. It was amusing to see someone other than herself test the limits of that patience.

After dinner Sophie took Yennefer to her room. The walls were light pink, the bedspread had a princess on it (Yennefer thought it must’ve been a Disney princess but couldn’t identify which one), and one of the walls had pink and purple butterfly decals. The carpet was littered with large plastic bricks that looked like Lego, fake supermarket products, and crayons spread around an open colouring-in book. Sophie showed Yennefer all of her favourite toys and introduced her to her dolls and an ugly plush animal of unidentifiable species that lit up and made noises. 

They played on the floor for a while. Yennefer didn’t have a clue how to “play” as kids do but Sophie was more than happy to assign her roles and tell her what to do.

When Sophie’s bedtime approached, Tissaia came to get her daughter to brush her teeth and then helped her change into her pjs. There was more bargaining (for a later bedtime) but Tissaia was firm. 

"One story, then bed."

Sophie relented with a pout. “I want Miss Yen to tuck me in.”

“If you ask Miss Yennefer nicely she might tell you a story,” said Tissaia, then she kissed Sophie goodnight and left the two of them to it. 

Yennefer had no idea what was required, nor what book was suitable, for storytime. “Er… how about a ballet story?” When Sophie nodded, she figured what the hell. “Ok. Once upon a time there was a beautiful ballerina called, um, Tissaia de Vries.”

“Mummy!” Sophie recognised where this was going.

“Yes. One day she auditioned for the Royal Ballet but the Evil Casting Director, who was called Stregobor, turned her down because she was too short. He was one of those pr- people who think that the corps dancers should have a uniform look in height. But she didn’t give up, she worked hard until she was too good to ignore. She got in a year later and went on to become their longest running soloist...”

Yennefer continued recounting Tissaia’s early career in fairytale format until she was sure that Sophie had fallen asleep.

* * *

Tissaia finished washing the dishes and put them away while Yennefer was on storytime duty. 

Now she was sitting at the table with her laptop catching up on the emails she’d neglected all day. The regional examiners had gotten back to her regarding the classical exam dates but the buffoons had booked a Saturday in the school holidays (when many families were away) instead of during the school term. They were about to receive a strongly worded reply.

She looked up to see that Yennefer had returned and closed the laptop lid with a snap. “All done?”

“Yeah.” Yennefer stood there, hands in her pockets. “Thanks for having me over by the way. Dinner was amazing. I’ll leave you to your evening now.”

“Oh.” Tissaia suppressed a pang of disappointment. “You don’t want to stay for dessert or another glass of wine?”

“Um I thought-… yeah, I’d love to. Dessert would be great.”

Tissaia went to the fridge to retrieve the Devil’s Food cake, fresh whipped cream, and a punnet of strawberries that she’d hidden there earlier. She’d kept it secret from Sophie fearing the full-on meltdown that would’ve ensued if she’d known what she would be missing out on. Sophie didn’t even like dark chocolate but there would’ve been tears.

The two of them sat at the dining table and Tissaia served them each a plate with a slice of cake topped with cream and slivered strawberries.

“Fuck, this is so good.” Yennefer groaned. “I could die of happiness. I could seriously eat this and nothing else for the rest of my life.”

Tissaia watched Yennefer’s tongue dart out to lick her fork and licked her own lips. “Yes, I remembered your fondness for chocolate of all kinds. I didn’t tell you about dessert earlier because I couldn’t mention it in front of little ears. I’m not sure you’re ready to see my darling daughter in Chernobyl mode.”

“She's such a sweetheart. I adore her.”

“She adores you too. Thank you for humouring her tonight.” Tissaia’s eyes landed on the vase sitting on the bench. “And thank you for the flowers, they’re beautiful. I don’t think I’ve had a bouquet since my final curtain call.”

“But you were married,” Yennefer blurted out. 

The number of Valentine’s days, birthdays, and anniversaries that had gone unrecognised in floral form must have been obvious. It was true -- her husband had never bought her flowers, he thought they were a waste of money because all they did was die. _So does Odette_ , Tissaia used to argue, _but that hasn’t stopped a century of people from going to see Swan Lake. Sometimes the best thing one can do for an audience is die._

“I see someone’s filled you in on my past,” said Tissaia.

“Sorry,” said Yennefer, chagrined.

Tissaia shook her head. “It’s fine. It’s not a secret that I’m divorced. My husband left after I found out I was pregnant. He didn’t want to be a father which was news to me. Everyone thinks I didn’t know about his affair but on some level I knew. Maybe I should have left instead of waiting for him to do it but… I didn’t. I suppose that’s pathetic.”

Yennefer denied it. “It’s not. He’s a bastard for doing that to you.”

It had been a long time, and Tissaia’s wounds from marriage were scarred over and were rather insensitive now. But it wasn’t her favourite topic of conversation. She was far more interested in what Yennefer had been doing with her life -- professionally and personally -- for the past half-decade or more.

“What about you?” said Tissaia. “How did you like living in New York.”

“I liked it… for a while.” Yennefer gave a slow nod. “There was so much to do, there were endless parties and I was cast in a slew of NYCB productions. I thought it was my dream job. I just kept moving from one thing to the next until one day I realised I was unhappy.”

“Is that why you left the company?”

“No, I had to leave.”

“Because you were injured? I saw you wearing a knee brace the other day. I thought maybe that was why it was so sudden...”

Yennefer paused and looked uncertain, like she was considering what to say or whether to say anything at all. “No. I wasn’t injured,” she said, going quiet. “I haven’t told anyone this before but… the Contract Manager was putting the hard word on me. He was the son of the Company Director so I was kind of fucked either way. It was subtle at first. He started stirring up jealousy among the other dancers. He messed with my schedule so that I missed important rehearsals and company meetings; it made everyone think I was unreliable. Then he picked a fight with me in my dressing room before an opening night performance and I was too visibly upset to go onstage. The company was royally pissed at me. Things deteriorated after that. So I quit.”

The truth was shocking to hear. Tissaia had heard the rumours and she berated herself now for believing them in blind faith, for thinking that it was just like Yennefer to be difficult and stubborn. A young woman she cared about had fallen prey to the insidious male power structures that plagued organisations everywhere and her career had been ruined. The least she could’ve done would’ve been to give her the benefit of the doubt.

“I’m so sorry… ” Tissaia trailed off. “Did you try to report him?”

“No. At the time, I was in a relationship with another dancer, a woman. She was closeted. Aiden knew so of course he used it against me. Threatened to out us if I told anyone what was going on. Nobody would’ve believed my word against the company’s golden boy. Not after he turned everyone against me.”

“That’s awful.”

Yennefer sighed and pushed some cream and cake crumbs around her plate with her fork. 

Tissaia assumed that things hadn't worked out with Yennefer's girlfriend after that but she didn't want to pry. She hadn't known that Yennefer dated women and wondered if she was a lesbian or bisexual but wasn't sure how to ask without being impolite. Somehow it wasn't exactly a surprise, it seemed to fit her. She wouldn’t have guessed it -- but then she supposed that was her own bias for assuming all the women she came across were straight.

Yennefer changed the topic by asking, "Do you remember Geralt Rivers?"

"Of course, from Ban Ard. He used to be your dance partner. I heard he retired after a few stints with State companies."

"Yep. I've caught up with him a few times recently. He's just adopted a little girl."

"If I remember correctly you two used to date as teenagers. I don't suppose there's any chance of reconciliation…?"

Yennefer looked confused for a second and then laughed. "Oh! No. He's got a partner. Besides, we're both gay."

That was a relief, though Tissaia wasn't sure why. 

If she hadn't known better she would've called the look Yennefer gave her shy. Tissaia smiled in return, hoping to convey that she was fine with what had just been shared with her. Yennefer's smile widened and she looked down, tucking her glossy black hair behind her shoulder from where it had fallen forward. 

They continued to talk into the night and it was well after 12 when Tissaia couldn't stop yawning and Yennefer declared she had to let her go get some sleep. Tissaia was tired, yes, but she was enjoying herself so much that she hadn't wanted the night to end. It made her wonder why on earth they’d lost touch over the years. Why hadn’t she reached out to Yennefer across the oceans? She’d dismissed her former student as a lost cause but now, thankfully, she’d been gifted the chance to try again.

She walked Yennefer to the door, and perhaps it was the wine but she could've sworn she'd seen Yennefer staring at her lips with her dark expressive eyes. Almost like she wanted to kiss her... 

It was only once Yennefer had gone that Tissaia, laying in bed with a racing mind and unable to sleep, admitted to herself that she wanted to kiss her back.

* * *

Not long after lunchtime Yennefer was working alone in Studio 1, tracing out the final steps of the choreography she'd been working on. 

It was too early for the students to start arriving for their afternoon classes so there was no-one else around. She wore her customary all-black outfit of leggings over a long-sleeved leotard and thick fluffy socks in lieu of ballet shoes because her "best" pair of canvas flats were worn through at the toes. Hopefully her new delivery would turn up soon.

The routine was finished. She was keen to show Tissaia what she'd come up with so when she saw her enter the room her face lit up.

“Tissaia! Hey.”

"Have you got a minute?" asked Tissaia, coming over to her.

"Yeah. I've finished the chorey for the pas de deux and I thought of this really cool lift for the coda. Do you want to see it?"

"Oh… sure." Tissaia seemed distracted but agreed.

As usual Tissaia had on her flexible black split-sole sneakers so that she was ready to dance at a moment's notice. She was wearing a short black gauzy wrap skirt over the top of thick black tights, grey leg warmers scrunched down around her ankles, and a cream knitted jumper that looked huggable. 

"Ok, you do Sabrina's part. I'll do the Ban Ard boy's..." Yennefer recited the steps to Tissaia who (ever the consummate professional) followed them as she went without missing a beat. "... Then you do two piqué tours, pas de bourreé, pirouette and fall forward into my arms-"

_Fuck!_ It was at this second that Yennefer realised her first mistake. She caught Tissaia's weight easily (she was tiny) but her body was warm and soft and now that she had her in her arms she wanted to keep her there forever. Being this close to her, embracing her in a romantic duet, was making her feel all sorts of feelings that she’d been trying to ignore. 

"- and then, um, hold there. Arms in third with your right leg retiré and left leg derriere-”

“Poisson dive?” Tissaia guessed where it was heading.

“Yes, and then I'm going to lift you and dip us both over…"

Yennefer's second mistake was what she had to do next to execute the lift. Her right hand was splayed on Tissaia's stomach to support her weight and then to achieve depth in the dip she had to place her left hand high up on Tissaia’s inner thigh from between her legs in order to lift her off the ground. 

Partnered lifts were difficult as they required a 50-50 effort. Yennefer was used to having Geralt or another male partner support her bottom or thigh or some other intimate part and doing her bit to balance herself. But she hadn't had to put her hands on another woman while dancing like this before. She'd never had to touch _Tissaia_ like this before...

But Tissaia seemed to sense what Yennefer was trying to achieve and aligned herself in perfect sync with her. Without looking in the mirror to check, she could tell the two of them ended up executing it beautifully on the first try. It was a tax on her upper body strength but she willed herself not to drop her. She could feel the tensing of every muscle under her fingers.

They held the pose for a few seconds and then Yennefer lifted out of it and set Tissaia back on her feet.

"That's quite… intimate," said Tissaia, not meeting Yennefer's eyes as she straightened her jumper. "It would’ve made an excellent end to the piece. I appreciate how hard you've worked on this routine but I came to tell you that we won't be performing at the Eisteddfod."

Yennefer's heart sank as her confusion rose. "What? Why?"

Tissaia reached up to press her temple with her fingers. "I've had several robust conversations with Stregobor in recent weeks. He's now refusing to allow any Ban Ard boy to partner with us."

"He's such a prick!"

"Yes."

An idea occurred to Yennefer. Maybe they didn't need to pull out of the competition. "What if Sabrina performed it with one of the other senior girls? Maybe Triss Merigold, she's tall and pretty strong."

"As a traditional duet?"

"No, the song is too romantic for that. I mean, why don't we do the pas de deux with two female dancers?"

There was a pause. They both knew the implications of it, a pas de deux was almost exclusively a male-female pairing, often between characters who were lovers in a story ballet. Classical duets for two females were uncommon, and even then, the two dancers rarely touched and there were no lifts of this kind. It would raise eyebrows at the competition.

"That might be controversial," Tissaia said, eventually voicing her concern.

Yennefer rolled her eyes, impatient with her. "Come on, Tissaia, what century is this? Same-sex couples exist."

"I know.” Tissaia held up a pacifying hand. “But if I'm the one to ask Sabrina to do this she’ll be compelled to say yes. I don’t want to put her in an awkward position, especially if she happens to be questioning her own sexuality. Her parents are very religious."

Yennefer sighed. That was indeed a good reason. She would hate to be responsible for outing a young person. But she was so sick and tired of the world -- including the ballet world -- being run by men and their antiquated traditions. You’d think after surviving five hundred years of adaptation that ballet would be open to some new ideas.

"Don't you ever get tired of this?" said Yennefer, not expecting an actual answer. “The same old bullshit over and over. When will kids ever get new ideas if people like us don’t have the courage to take the risk and show them.”

"If you'd like to make a recording of it we could use it in future..."

"Yeah, sure. Don't worry, I won't bother asking you to do it with me. I'll record it with Geralt. Otherwise one of the kids might get the idea that it's ok to be gay." 

Tissaia's face looked stricken suddenly. 

Yennefer had said it to be spiteful, which was stupid, because she didn’t blame Tissaia. She now realised that she’d been thinking of only one person when imagining the routine in her mind and there was only one person she could picture herself dancing it with. And it wasn’t Geralt.

The office phone rang.

"Excuse me," said Tissaia, and then hurried out of the studio.

* * *

Yennefer knew her personality was a bit shit in some respects. She held grudges, was terrible at apologising, and could be an inconvenient arsehole when she wanted to be. 

Yes, she was disappointed about the pas de deux getting dropped but it wasn't like she hadn't had to face disappointment before: failed auditions, missteps on stage, and job rejection. But this time she was _really_ fucking shitty that what she wanted was yanked out of reach.

But Tissaia didn’t deserve to be treated badly. They hadn’t even had a real argument; all Tissaia had done was point out the obvious and Yennefer had bitten back at her with sarcasm. She couldn’t fathom why Tissaia didn't counter it, she’d never shied away from criticising every flaw of Yennefer’s in the past. Why was she holding back now?

Maybe Yennefer was just shitty about _still_ being hung-up on her. Instead of improving over time her crush had gotten worse. But Tissaia was still straight and still her boss, and therefore it would never happen. It wasn’t fair to blame Tissaia for it but her nearness was a sore reminder.

Yennefer resolved to stay out of the other woman’s way for the rest of the week.

It was easy to do because all she had to do was avoid the studio’s office. If Tissaia had been squirrelled away in there before it was nothing to what it was like now. The only time Yennefer ventured in was to collect some of the Grade 6 lesson plans and she’d caught Tissaia watching her, while listening on the phone. The corners of her lips had formed a barely-there smile, a peace offering, but Yennefer had grabbed her papers and left.

It was Monday today, her day off. Her temper had cooled off and now she was missing the studio because it'd been two entire days since she'd seen Sophie and Tissaia.

There was nothing for her to do today. Geralt and Jaskier were at another meeting with Ciri. Yennefer toyed with the idea of going out or perhaps staying in to clean the apartment for once but decided she wasn't _that_ bored yet.

A parcel arrived at her apartment building and had been waiting at reception for a few days so she went down to retrieve it. It contained some items from Bloch's new collection so she tried a few clothes on and posted some photos to her instagram account and included all the right hashtags.

That reminded her of her promise to set up an instagram for Aretuza Dance Academy. She had signed up the other day but had made few posts so far. 

Luckily her phone already had a selection of photos taken at the studio and during classes of the girls (though she made sure that none of the children were identifiable in them) so she applied a few filters and crops and posted them. In between pictures of the kids Yennefer included some ballet aesthetic pics of her own and, after some time pondering, she posted one or two of Tissaia’s glamour shots from her days at the Royal Ballet and a long shot she'd taken of Tissaia teaching at the studio...

_Gaaaaay_ , her mind snickered. In her defense, Tissaia was the Principal so it wasn’t at all weird for her to appear on her own school’s instagram. Besides, it would inspire the girls. 

Satisfied with her work, Yennefer noticed there was a new email from BunHeads Dancewear waiting for her in her inbox but before she could open it her phone screen switched to an incoming call.

It was Rita Laux-Antille.

Yennefer swiped right to answer the call. "Hi Rita."

“Yennefer. Are you free now?” Rita said over the phone.

“Yeah, why?”

“Can you do me a favour? I’m tied up with my partner at the moment.”

“Literally tied up or…? Actually, don’t answer that. What do you need.”

“Tissaia’s at the hospital. They called me to see if I could come pick her up but I’m over two hours away.”

“What?" cried Yennefer, worry springing in her chest. "Is she alright. Which hospital. Where’s Sophie?”

Rita rattled off the name of a local hospital and the street location. "Sophie's there too. But they won’t discharge Tissaia today unless someone comes to collect her. A competent adult, which rules me out anyway. But if she's admitted overnight there's no-one to take care of Sophie.”

Yennefer was already on her feet scrabbling around for her car keys and handbag while putting on her shoes and balancing the phone in the crook of her neck. She nearly tripped over trying to shove her foot into her boot.

“Ok, I’ll leave as soon as we hang up. I’ll take them both home and make sure she’s alright before I leave.”

Rita's pointed smile was somehow audible in her voice. “I know you'll take good care of her.”

“How do you know that.”

“Because I have eyes and you haven’t taken yours off Tissaia since you got here.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Corps de ballet - “body of the ballet”, group of dancers who are not principal dancers (lead roles) or soloists  
> Coda - end of a piece of music  
> Piqué tours - “pricked” turn  
> Pas de bourrée - transfer step  
> Pirouette - turn on one leg  
> Retiré - one leg bent at the knee forming a triangular shape with the toe touching the knee of the supporting leg  
> Poisson - “fish dive”, intermediate partnering lift (looks like this: https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:NWFusion11.jpg)


	4. Fourth

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi everyone, happy new year! Hope you are all safe and as well as can be. Sorry for the wait on this update, I got a bit distracted over the holidays but the good news is I've also been working on another fic. Thanks for reading! :)x

When Yennefer got to the hospital Emergency Department one of the nurses explained what happened and led her to where Tissaia and Sophie were waiting. 

Tissaia was still dressed in her day clothes but sitting semi-reclined in a chair with an IV drip in her arm. Her face was pale and drawn but she didn’t look as bad as what Yennefer’s over-active imagination had tortured her with on the drive over. Sophie was sitting next to her mother leaning on her opposite side with a mournful red face like she’d been crying. 

“Miss Yen!” Sophie saw her arrive and ran over to hug her around the legs. 

“Hey, Soph.” Yennefer bent down to rub her back. “What’s up.”

“Mummy’s sick!”

“I see that. But the doctors and nurses are going to make her all better. Don’t be scared ok.”

Sophie nodded solemnly. 

The two of them approached the row of chairs where Tissaia was sitting next to her IV pole. As soon as Tissaia saw her she straightened up her posture in an unsuccessful attempt to look less indisposed. But all she looked was tiny in the large leather recliner that threatened to swallow her. Her feet didn't even touch the floor for Christ's sake.

“I thought they were going to call Rita,” said Tissaia.

“They did,” said Yennefer. “But she’s out of town. You’re stuck with me.”

Sophie tugged on Yennefer’s hand. “Can we go now? I'm bored.”

“I know, we’ll leave soon,” Yennefer soothed. “Mummy needs to finish absorbing that bag of salt and sign some forms and then all three of us are going to go home. Here, why don’t we watch some Puppy Patrol on my phone while we wait.”

Yennefer sat Sophie down with YouTube and supervised her viewing until one of the staff came to check on Tissaia’s drip and take her vitals again. A circle bandaid was taped to Tissaia’s forearm where they’d removed the IV.

Once treatment was over, the discharge nurse gave Yennefer instructions for Tissaia’s care, what to look out for if her condition worsened, and gave them the forms to sign. It was strange being responsible for someone’s welfare. Yennefer had never had to be responsible for anything except herself in her whole life. Her family had left her to her own devices at a young age and she’d grown up in and out of the indifferent care of the state for most of her teens. 

After the paperwork was out of the way, they exited through the front sliding doors and headed out to the carpark. When they had to cross the road and Tissaia took Sophie’s hand, Sophie reached up and took Yennefer’s with her other one and skipped along between them.

Tissaia and Yennefer didn’t speak during the short car ride home while Yennefer drove. When they got home, Sophie went to her room to play and Tissaia went to the kitchen bench to organise her discharge papers. Yennefer followed them in while watching Tissaia as though she were liable to fall off her feet.

“I appreciate you picking us up, Yennefer. I don’t want to take up any more of your evening...” Tissaia was politely hinting for her to go.

Yennefer gave her a hard stare. “Sit down.”

“Excuse me?”

“You heard what the nurse said. I’m not leaving until I know you’re alright. You need to rest.”

Tissaia bristled. “I know that. I’m not a child. I can take care of myself.”

“Apparently you  _ don’t _ know how to take care of yourself. They told me you collapsed at work from sudden fatigue caused by stress. That’s not normal. Tissaia, what the fuck?” Yenenfer let her arms flap out and slap to her sides.

Tissaia slid on to the nearest bar stool. “They’re exaggerating. I fainted. I skipped breakfast, that’s all.”

“No, that’s not all.” Yennefer went around the bench to face her. “You were so dehydrated they had you on a saline drip for half an hour. What’s going on that has you so stressed out that you forgot to take a sip of water for an entire fucking day.”

“I’m busy. I’m a single mother and I’m trying to sort out some issues with my Academy’s finances. There are deadlines.”

“Well, why haven’t you asked for help? I’m right here. Even if you just want to talk things through.”

“I don’t need anyone’s help.”

Yennefer shook her head. “You know what I think? I think you’ve been trying to manage everything on your own since your ex walked out on you, the business has grown too big for one person to handle, you don’t know how to ask for help even when you need it, and now you’ve finally worn yourself out.”

If Yennefer hadn’t seen it a thousand times before Tissaia’s glare would’ve been withering. 

“You don’t know anything about what it's been like for me,” Tissaia glanced down the hall and back before lowering her voice, “or what I’ve had to do to get through the last five years.”

“Then tell me! I swear to god, talking to you is like talking to a brick wall sometimes.” 

Yennefer grabbed her phone and swiped to unlock it. She found a photo that she’d saved from a Google Image search of Tissaia, a closeup taken at one of her performances in her debut role as the heartbroken Giselle, the role that’d won the hearts of critics and balletomanes alike and cemented her future as a star. She held out the phone screen so that Tissaia could see her own face.

“Look at her. Everyone in the audience can see what she’s feeling. Why can’t you do that with me.”

“Because- … I can’t.” Tissaia was swallowing back tears now, it was audible in her voice. 

Fuck, she’d made her want to cry and now Yennefer felt like complete shit. Forcing herself to calm down, she took a deep breath. “Shit. Sorry. I’m sorry. This can’t be helping your stress. Why don’t you go lie down for a while. I’ll make dinner and keep an eye on Sophie.”

Without another word Tissaia headed for her bedroom, presumably to lie down and rest. She was fast asleep when Yennefer checked up on her hours later and didn’t wake until well into the next day.

* * *

Tissaia woke up feeling groggy like she’d been asleep for too long. She leaned over to retrieve her phone from the bedside table and realised it was after 9am. She’d fallen asleep in yesterday’s clothes and slept right through the night. The last thing she remembered was speaking to Yennefer… and trying not to break down in front of her. Just the reminder of it caused her insides to squirm with embarrassment all over again.

The first task on her mind now was to go find Sophie. 

In the living room Tissaia found her daughter, still dressed in her pjs, lying on her tummy in front of the TV and a colouring-in book surrounded by coloured pencils. The TV was set to a kids’ channel with the sound down low. It was a miracle that she hadn’t come in to jump on the bed earlier this morning. Usually sleeping in was impossible.

Tissaia bent down to give Sophie a good morning hug and kiss. “Good morning, darling.” 

Sophie’s face lit up. “Mummy!”

“I hope you were good for Miss Yennefer last night. Did she tuck you in?”

“Yeees,” Sophie sang, returning to her colouring page. “We had popcorn. And a sleepover.”

“I bet that was fun. What about this morning, have you had breakfast yet?”

“Yeeees.”

Well, apparently that was as much information as her four year old contained. Sophie was given a fright yesterday in seeing her mother sick but she seemed to have gotten over it already.

Realising her stomach was aching with hunger, Tissaia went to the kitchen bench to get herself some breakfast. On the sink there was a bowl with the dregs of coloured milk, implying Sophie’s breakfast was Froot Loops (usually only allowed on the weekend). On the counter there was a handwritten note and sitting next to it was a large glass full of water. The note was written in Yennefer’s chaotic scrawl.

_ Tissaia, _

_ I didn’t want to wake you last night but I wasn’t sure whether to leave Sophie. Hope it’s alright that I slept over. _

_ When you wake up DRINK THIS---> _

_ I have a spy in the house so I’ll know if you don’t. _

_ Feel better, _

_ Y _

_ PS. You’ve got the day off. I have today’s classes covered so if I see you at the studio I WILL bring you straight back home. _

Tissaia smiled in spite of herself. Yennefer must've slept on the lounge and then left earlier this morning. It was fortunate because now she had the time to process their argument last night. It was true that she did feel  _ much _ better today than she had in a while. But there was a somberness when she thought of her beloved Aretuza.

As she got out the cereal and milk for her breakfast she thought back over what happened yesterday. 

It had been the deadline for the first installment of the tax repayments, which she'd sent off in time. The business was kept afloat for now but all it did was delay the inevitable. Spreadsheets didn't lie. ln a few months everything would slip through her fingers like dry sand in the wind.

Yennefer had been right -- Tissaia hadn't eaten or taken a drink all day. By the time all the work was done she felt weak and then lightheaded as soon as she'd stood up.

She didn't remember anything after that. Apparently one of the casual teachers found her and called for help. It was a little embarrassing the fuss that had been made over her.

Yennefer had been the one to go above and beyond, picking them up and babysitting Sophie overnight. Though it was confusing why she was so angry about what'd happened. She'd seemed hurt that Tissaia hadn't confided in her. Tissaia hadn't kept Yennefer in the dark on purpose, it was just her habit of handling everything herself. She felt more in control that way. 

Stress had long been her enemy. 

In her youth it had only been through sheer will and discipline that she’d been able to control it. Many an opening night performance for the Royal Ballet found her beset with fear of the stage, throwing up in the bathroom mere minutes before curtain call, the stage manager ordering her understudy into costume just in case Tissaia couldn’t master herself. With time, her nerves capitulated and perfection was left in their place.

But her feelings for Yennefer could not be controlled anymore. She'd had to keep a tight rein on herself whenever they were together lest she give herself away. She noticed that Yennefer had been avoiding her for the last few days though. Tissaia was her employer and had been her teacher; what if Yennefer thought she was being inappropriate? Or worse, what if she was disgusted by it? No, it would be better not to let on. Their professional relationship -- and any chance of remaining friends -- depended on it.

Tissaia decided to relish the gift she'd been given and enjoy her day off by spending time with Sophie. They played games and did some crafts. It was almost enough to keep her mind off a certain someone… but then a text message came in.

**Yennefer:** Hey Tissaia, is it alright if I drop by after work?

Tissaia’s reply was a simple “Yes” but she was equal parts dreading and looking forward to seeing her again.

* * *

Late that afternoon Yennefer shifted one of the bags of groceries into her other hand and knocked on the door to Tissaia’s house. She’d driven straight there after work still in her studio clothes, only stopping at the store on the way. 

Making pancakes for dinner last night (a delight to Sophie) had depleted almost all of the milk so she’d decided to replace it and pick up a few other necessities while she was at the store. It was polite and at least she wouldn’t be turning up empty handed without an excuse for coming over beyond wanting to see the two women who occupied her heart. The usual butterflies flitted around in her stomach.

Tissaia answered the door quicker than expected.

“Oh, uh,” Yennefer scrambled for words while her brain restarted. “You look good - I mean, you look well. Much better than yesterday.”

“I feel better.” Tissaia stepped back and let her into the house. “Thank you for taking care of Sophie last night. I appreciate it.”

“I’m assuming she didn’t tell you what I cooked for dinner then.”

“She didn’t have to. Mothers know everything.”

“Ah, shit. Busted.” Yennefer chuckled. “I’ll have to remember that. Anyway, I picked up milk and a few things.”

“You didn’t have to do that but thank you.”

They both went to the kitchen. Yennefer plonked the grocery bags on the bench and Tissaia started unpacking them and putting things away in the cupboard and fridge. Tissaia kept giving her huffy glances as if to say ‘you didn’t have to do this, it’s too much’ which Yennefer ignored, impatient to get past the awkwardness of thanks and apologies. 

Yennefer plucked a small flat glittery item out of one of the bags and went over to where Sophie was sprawled out on the lounge room floor in front of the TV with her colouring books. 

“Hey Soph, how’s my favourite girl.”

Sophie looked up. “Miss Yen!”

“You know, you can just call me Yen when we’re not at the studio if you like.”

“‘kay.”

Yennefer made a show of hiding something behind her back. “You were so brave yesterday. How would you like a surprise?”

Sophie nodded, enthralled. As soon as Yennefer dropped the surprise item into her little hands she exclaimed. “STICKERS! Mummy, I got stickers.”

Tissaia replied from the kitchen. “You’re a lucky girl aren’t you. Don’t forget to say 'thank you' to Yennefer for the present.”

“Thank youuu,” Sophie sang. The little girl got up and held her arms out for a hug. 

Yennefer bent down to receive the hug and it vitalised her whole soul. She was as soft for this little child as she was for her mother. Unlike Tissaia, Sophie’s emotions were freely shown since she was too young to have been hurt and put up walls to protect herself. Yennefer already had dangerous levels of love for the kid, she was certain that she’d do anything to ensure her happiness.

As soon as Sophie went back to her colouring-in Yennefer wandered over to the kitchen bench.

Tissaia was standing opposite to her on the other side slicing vegetables for salad. “Do you eat fish?” asked Tissaia.

“Yeah, why?” Yennefer replied.

“I’m cooking salmon for dinner. If you’d like to stay.”

“Oh. Yeah, that sounds great. I hope you don’t feel like I’ve been rude and invited myself over.”

Tissaia shot her a sly look. “Not at all. I am concerned about your diet given your apparent lack of cooking skills.”

Yennefer dropped her jaw, pretending offense, and then laughed it off. “Yeah, that’s valid. Can I do anything to help?”

“Actually yes… could you get the box of fish fingers out of the freezer and put three on a tray into the oven. Sophie’s having those instead.”

It wasn’t a taxing task but Yennefer was glad to help. After sliding the tray into the pre-heated oven she went to sit at the bench and watch Tissaia cook. The fish fillets, which Tissaia informed her was Atlantic salmon ‘skin on’, only took about 10 minutes to pan sear. Soon enough she was plating out portions of salad onto three plates that were waiting at the dinner table. 

When the oven timer dinged ,Yennefer made herself useful and retrieved the fish fingers. She added them to Sophie’s plate.

“Sophie, dinner’s ready,” Tissaia called out. “Go wash your hands please.”

Sophie wouldn’t go until Yennefer agreed to accompany her so they went to the bathroom to wash their hands together. Once they got back, Tissaia had served the two adults their salmon fillets covered in cracked pepper and lemon, which made the whole room smell fresh and delicious.

As the three of them ate together, the two adults smiling at each other over Sophie’s chatter, Yennefer couldn’t help but think how good it would be to come home to this every night. There was no point lying to herself about what she wished for, so she didn’t. Nobody would ever know that she pretended for a moment that this was hers to keep.

* * *

After dinner, Sophie roped Yennefer into playing games with her. First it was Snap! with a kids’ deck of farm animal cards and then a game of hide-and-seek at which Yennefer was at a distinct disadvantage since she was physically bigger and unfamiliar with the house layout. Sophie’s disadvantage was that she couldn’t help giggling and revealing her hiding spot.

Tissaia kept an eye on it all while she did the dishes and tidied up. She didn't intervene but was not looking forward to settling down her hyped-up four year old at bedtime. Hide-and-seek had degenerated into 'squeal and run around the house being chased by Yennefer'. When 7pm neared she had to break it up to start the bedtime routine.

Sophie, who was already showing signs of being overtired after a long day, started campaigning to stay up later. “Please, Mummy, please!”

"No, darling. It’s already late. We're going to have a quick bath," said Tissaia. "One story and then bed."

"Noooo," Sophie moaned. Her little chin started to wobble and tears were starting. "I want to stay up with Yen!"

Yennefer gave Tissaia a guilty look and mouthed the word 'sorry'. 

In the end, Sophie submitted to a bath and storytime but only because Yennefer was present for both and she promised that they could see each other tomorrow at the studio. Then there was bargaining for extra hugs and kisses (granted). Thankfully, the warm bath worked and Sophie fell asleep almost as soon as her head hit the pillow. A full-blown meltdown was averted.

After closing the bedroom door the two adults tiptoed to the living room. 

"Would you like a cup of tea," Tissaia offered. "Or coffee?"

"Tea. But I'll make it for both of us," said Yennefer. "You sit down."

"This again." Tissaia’s eye roll was playful. "It won't overtax me to boil the kettle you know."

"Well, if it's no big deal you won't mind if I do it," Yenenfer sassed back. "Besides, you cooked dinner  _ and  _ did the dishes. Let me do something."

“I suppose you can be trusted to boil water?”

“I’ll have you know that I possess many talents that you know nothing about.”

Tissaia filed that comment away for later rumination. If she hadn’t known better she would’ve thought Yennefer was flirting with her. It was difficult not to respond in kind. Running around the house with Sophie had given Yennefer a sparkle in her near-amethyst eyes. It warmed Tissaia’s heart the way the two of them were together, and it made her love Yennefer all the more for loving her daughter. It strengthened her resolve that she could not risk scaring Yennefer off. Sophie would be devastated.

But she couldn’t help wanting her.

Once the tea was prepared, Yennefer joined her in the living room and set two mugs of tea on the coffee table. Then she sank into her seat on the lounge beside Tissaia with a sigh. There was a time when she would’ve chastised Yennefer for slouching even when not in the studio. But she’d long since learned from her early teaching mistakes.

“Your kid has worn me out,” said Yennefer. “I seriously have no idea how you do this parenting thing all day everyday.”

Tissaia smiled. “You’re good with her.”

“She’s like a mini version of you, it’s hilarious. I tried to let her win at Snap! because I figured ‘she’s only little, what do I care’. And she gave me this Tissaia-look and said, ‘ _ No, Yen. That’s not the rules. We have to play fair. _ ’”

“Playing fair hasn’t worked out too well for me in life.”

Yennefer’s brow furrowed and she lowered her cup to the table after taking a sip. “What do you mean? You’ve had an amazing dance career. You’ve got a beautiful daughter. You’ve run a successful business… Are you seriously saying you think you’re not winning at life?”

Tissaia felt a jolt of nerves in her gut. The topic was at hand, she wanted to tell Yennefer what was going on, but it was hard admitting to someone who admired her that her business was failing. “It’s- … not going so well at the moment.”

Respectfully, Yennefer didn’t say anything. She waited until Tissaia got the words together and explained about the moron accountant and the enormous underpaid taxes and the failed merger with Ban Ard. That was why she hadn’t been teaching lately; her time was exhausted by phoning the bank and the tax department and spending hours pouring over financial spreadsheets looking for anything that might help.

“I failed,” said Tissaia, setting her jaw tight. “And now I might lose everything. I’m sorry.”

Yennefer’s face showed her disbelief. “What for? You don’t need to apologise to me.”

“I do. I’m responsible for providing employment to you and the other casual teachers. Not to mention how this will affect the girls, the students, they’ll all have to find new ballet schools. There are a few who I know will slip through the cracks if no-one takes a particular interest in them.”

The guilt that’d been piling up in her mind was out in the open. Now Yennefer, who had always thought Tissaia was perfect, knew just how badly she’d failed. It was humiliating not only having to close or sell her business but to give up her life’s work. Aretuza was all she had to show for her career now and soon it would be gone. 

Yennefer grabbed her hand and held it tight. At the touch, Tissaia’s eyes snapped up to see a fierce look on her face, imploring her. “Tissaia. Listen to me. It’s not your fault. I know you need everything to be perfect but you haven’t done anything wrong ok?”

Tissaia felt her lip tremble and her eyes pricked. Panicked that she would cry, she clamped her jaw tight. Then felt a cool hand cup the side of her face. 

“Hey,” Yennefer said in a soft voice. “I’m glad you told me. I hope it’s because you trust me and not because I went off at you yesterday. I hope this isn’t the end of Aretuza. I think the place means almost as much to me as it does to you.

“You saved me, I’ll never forget that. I was one of the girls who would’ve slipped through the cracks without you. When I was a kid you told me I’d won a Capezio shoe scholarship, which was a lucky coincidence because I had no money for pointe shoes.

“But you lied to me. There was no scholarship. You paid for my shoes for years out of your own funding and never said a word. I can’t imagine what life I would’ve had if you hadn’t taken a particular interest in a gawky bad-mouthed kid like me. But I made it. I’m here, and the reason is you.”

Tissaia lost it then. A sob burst out of her and she ended up crumpling into Yennefer’s arms, hiding her embarrassment by burying her face into her shoulder. Yennefer hugged her tighter. She breathed and let a few tears slip until she got herself under control. And Yennefer, dearest Yennefer, held her throughout and didn’t reproach her for it.

“There’s something I need to tell you,” Yennefer said into her hair. “I’ve been lying to you too.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Glossary
> 
> Balletomanes - fans of ballet


	5. Fifth

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi everyone! Sorry for the long wait on this, I've been procrastinating so bad lately lol. I hope you enjoy the conclusion to this story. Thank you all so much for reading and commenting. I've been really inspired to write more regularly since getting into this fandom. 
> 
> I'm also just about to post the first chapter of my new modern AU yennaia fic, 'Return to Aretuza'. It's along the same lines but will be longer.

* * *

“There’s something I need to tell you,” Yennefer said into her hair. “I’ve been lying to you too.”

* * *

_ Oh shit, what the fuck did I say that for!  _

Yennefer’s heart began to pound when she realised what she’d said. 

Hugging Tissaia must’ve temporarily disabled her brain. Why else would she have hinted that she had feelings for her and hadn’t told her. That was not in the plan! The plan was to never confess about her embarrassing childhood crush and definitely not to tell her about how that crush had maybe sort of deepened into something more adult. 

They drew out of the hug and sat back a little. Tissaia sat there, recomposed, waiting for her to make a confession of her own. 

Yennefer was thankful and strangely proud that Tissaia had let her in and told her what was going on with Aretuza. She knew it wasn't easy for her to open up. It explained her stress and, although yesterday’s scare was something Yennefer would not soon forget, she was glad that it had happened if only to prompt Tissaia to start taking care of herself. 

Yennefer wanted to be the one to take care of her. Or at least be there for her. In whatever way she would let her. Which is why she was almost giddy when she remembered there  _ was _ something she could do that would help Aretuza. 

Yennefer took a breath. “Remember how I said I’d make you an instagram?”

Tissaia blinked as if she’d expected something else. “Oh. Yes, why?”

“I registered @aretuzadance and I’ve been posting some photos taken at the studio. It’s doing pretty well. Actually, there’s one photo that’s been doing very well. It kinda went viral. Well, as viral as a photo can go in the ballet world. I should’ve asked your permission before I posted it but I figured it’d get lost in the crowd. Only… it didn’t. It got picked up by @worldwideballet, which is kind of a big deal.”

“Ok,” Tissaia seemed confused by the rambling. “Can I see the photo?”

Yennefer grabbed her phone and swiped to unlock it. She went into her Photos and found the right one before turning the screen around. Thankfully it was listed near other studio photos and nowhere near her collection of glamour photos of Tissaia where they could be revealed by accident. 

Tissaia took the phone into her hand and peered at the photo.

“It’s you and Sophie,” Tissaia murmured.

“Yeah,” Yennefer gulped, hoping she wasn’t about to get kicked out for good. “I made sure I didn’t post any photos that the kids were identifiable in. Sorry, I still should’ve asked you. I didn’t think this would happen...”

The photo was taken in Studio 1 by the window. Yennefer was modeling some Bloch gear: satin pointe shoes and a white tulle skirt over a black leotard; her hair was curled and falling over her shoulders. She was in a pose called attitude devant near the barre but instead having both of her arms raised in the air, one was holding a little girl like a baby koala and the other was in fifth. Sophie wore her junior ballet uniform; her legs were wrapped around Yennefer’s waist and her opposite arm was curved above her little blonde head in a perfect fifth position.

Yennefer had gotten Rita to take the photo and then she’d cropped it to create the right composition and set it to black & white for the #aesthetics. It had come out just as she’d envisioned.

It was a stunning photograph. 

It captured the expression of love between the two subjects. Sophie was facing away from the camera but Yennefer was gazing at her with unabashed adoration and a soft smile.

“This is…” Tissaia shook her head slowly. “It’s a beautiful photo, Yennefer. I’d love a print of it.”

Yennefer exhaled in relief. “Yeah, of course. But there's something else… I got an email from BunHeads Dancewear who I've done some modelling for in the past. They're casting for a 'Mummy and me' photoshoot for their new women's and girls' dancewear. They saw the pic and thought Sophie was my daughter so they asked if she could do the shoot with me. I told them she was the daughter of a former Royal Ballet soloist and they put two and two together and figured out who you were… and now they want all three of us for a family shoot. Anyway, they'll pay 10 grand.”

By the time Yennefer finished her rushed explanation she was out of breath and fearing the reaction she'd get. 

The BunHeads email had arrived just before she'd gone to the hospital to pick up Tissaia and Sophie so she'd not had a chance to mention it before now. She had no idea of how Tissaia would react to the modelling offer, especially since she might be reluctant to involve her daughter at such a young age, and she wasn't sure if Tissaia would catch the meaning of the three of them doing the shoot together. 

The BunHeads marketing manager who she'd corresponded with was keen for diverse and inclusive casting. And she'd somehow gotten the idea that Yennefer and Sophie's mother were  _ together _ . Yennefer wasn't sure whether Tissaia would be comfortable with that implication. She wasn't sure whether she would be comfortable with it herself but when Tissaia said no she wouldn’t even have to think about it.

"Well," said Tissaia, after a while of letting the deluge of information sink in. "I'd like to hear more of the particulars but it sounds promising. It sounds like a miracle, that much money could save Aretuza."

"Yeah," Yennefer paused. "And you're ok with the um, theme of the photoshoot?"

"Yes. Why?"

_ Shit. She doesn't get it. I'm going to have to spell it out.  _ Yennefer suppressed a sigh. Maybe she shouldn't have brought it up at all. But no, that was impossible too.

"Tissaia… they think we're a couple. That's what they'll be expecting at the shoot."

"Yes, I realise that. Is there a problem?"

"Um... yeah?" Yennefer gave her a 'duh' face. "It's not like that between us. It's not real. We'll have to-"

"Act?" finished Tissaia, arching her eyebrow. "I can do that. I've been a swan, a fairy, a princess, and the vengeful spirit of a dead virgin … This will be much more straightforward."

Yennefer felt a tiny flare on the surface of her temper at Tissaia's nonchalance. Of course it would be easy for  _ her _ to pretend to be a couple, she wasn't the one with secret idiotic fantasies about it. There was no way Yennefer could do it and come out with her pride unscathed. To have what she wanted dangled in front of her face and then yanked away would be too much.

"You and Sophie should do it alone," said Yennefer, sharper than she intended. She snatched up her phone and looked around til she spotted her purse. She had a sudden need to leave. "I'll forward you the contact details. Anyway, I gotta go."

Yennefer got up and was already at the door, she had almost escaped, when she felt a hand on her upper arm. It gave her a jolt. She turned around reluctantly to face Tissaia who had followed swiftly on her heels. They were both still barefoot so she only came up to Yennefer's nose. Her auburn hair shone on top of her head, pulled into a bun even though it wasn’t a dancing day. She was so close Yennefer was afraid she'd hear her heart pounding against her ribcage.

"Wait, Yennefer," said Tissaia, a slight frown marring her brow. "Have I said something to upset you?"

Fuck Tissaia for pleading at her with her steel-blue eyes and her gorgeous face. Was anyone allowed to have cheekbones like that? After years of giving away nothing with her impassive countenance, what gave her the right to be so open with her face now?

"It's nothing," said Yennefer, trying to deflect one last time.

"You were right yesterday.” Tissaia softened, looking even more vulnerable. “I'm not good at showing emotions except on stage. But I'm trying, because of what your friendship means to me. Tell me what I've said wrong. Please."

For Yennefer, it was like a water balloon burst above her and doused her temper. She couldn't tell the truth and she couldn't lie either. But if she kept piling lies on top of her secrets she would lose Tissaia’s trust, fresh as a newborn foal it would die if left out in the cold. There was only one thing to do now, reach down to rescue it and offer some warmth.

"Fuck," Yennefer cursed under her breath, let out an impatient sigh and looked at the ceiling. She let her hands flap out and fall free at her sides with twin slaps. "You haven't said anything wrong. It's me. I don't want to do the photoshoot as a couple. I don't want us to pretend to have feelings for each other… because I won't be pretending. I don't want to see what it looks like on your face because it'll break my heart knowing it's not real."

Tissaia stared for a few uncomfortably long beats. Then realisation dawned over her pale face and the corners of her mouth tugged into a smile. Her dimples were showing, even the tiny cleft in her chin.

"You're attracted to me? I never thought you would feel that way about me."

Yennefer ran her hand through her hair. "Yeah, well, it is what it is. Can I leave now so that I can go crawl under a rock somewhere and die?"

"Not until you let me tell you how easily I could make an audience believe that I have feelings for you... because I wouldn't need to act. You’ve already seen what it looks like on my face. You see it every day."

Yennefer's heart slammed to a stop in her chest and the air seized in her lungs. There was no way. She had to be dreaming or hallucinating. Maybe she was allergic to fish and had gone into shock and died during dinner. But Tissaia seemed as earnest as she’d ever been. She had never been one to joke or to take the piss. 

"What are you saying," Yennefer asked when she found her voice and the courage to look her in the eyes again. "I thought you were straight."

It was Tissaia’s turn to look a little embarrassed, twin spots of pink showing in her cheeks. "I don't know anything about your community or what label I'm allowed to use… but I don't think I'm straight. To be honest, I spent most of my life so focused on ballet that I didn't question it. I didn't realise straight women didn't look at women the way that I always have, the way that I look at you."

“Holy shit, this whole time?! Why didn’t you say anything earlier.”

“Well... I… When we first met you were a child and I was your teacher. But since you came back to Aretuza things have been different. I’m different. You’re my employee, I’m a divorced single mother. I can’t tell you when I started falling for you, all I know is that I’ve been in freefall ever since.”

It was unclear who made the first move. Yennefer was still frozen in shock but dying for contact that would confirm that this was real. Suddenly Tissaia stood up on tip toes and slid her arms around her neck. Somehow Yennefer reached out and caught her out of some deep need to have her in her arms again. She hugged her tight and lifted her an inch or so off the floor just to remind her that she could.

Yennefer smiled, a huge grin overtook her face. “I’m going to date you  _ so _ hard, Tissaia de Vries.”

* * *

**(two months later)**

Tissaia leaned over the change room sink at her own studio and stared at her reflection in the mirror, willing herself to calm down. 

The nerves churning in her stomach were an unwelcome surprise when she woke up that morning. It had been over a decade since she’d been bent over in a bathroom, close to throwing up before a performance. She knew she wasn’t sick; it was only her long-lost fear of the stage. How many times in recent years had she stood in the wings giving pep talks to jittery girls before they had to go on stage? Now here she was, worse than any of them. It was humiliating.

Why was this happening  _ now _ ? 

She couldn’t splash water on her face because it would ruin her stage make-up and there wasn’t time to redo it. Her costume, a white romantic tutu with a long gauzy skirt that came from Aretuza’s costume storage, wasn’t helping since the bodice was tight and boned and uncomfortable at the best of times. She hadn't worn anything like it since before her daughter was born.

“Tissaia?” The change room door opened and Yennefer’s voice came through. “Are you in there, babe?”

“Yeah. Just a minute,” Tissaia managed to croak out. 

Yennefer came to stand by her side. She was already in costume as well, wearing a bejewelled black leotard with a high neck and low back covered by a sheer asymmetric wrap skirt. Dramatic makeup and hair pulled back into a high bun decorated with jewels finished her off. She was stunning. Nobody, including Tissaia, would be able to take their eyes off her like this.

“Everyone’s waiting,” said Yennefer. She glanced in the mirror. “Shit, what’s wrong? You look positively green around the gills. Don’t tell me the great Tissaia is nervous.”

The swoop in Tissaia’s stomach gave her that rollercoaster feeling. She snapped. “Go, Yennefer. I’ll be out in a minute.”

“Hey, hey,” said Yennefer, soothing with her voice. “I’m sorry. Come here.”

Yennefer put both her hands up to cup Tissaia’s face and turned her towards her. When she tried to pull her in closer to envelop her in a hug, Tissaia protested even though her heart wasn't in it. “Wait. You’ll ruin your makeup.”

“Fuck Jaskier and his makeup! I look like Alice Cooper.”

“You look beautiful, dear.”

“It’s not going to stop me hugging you. In fact, I won’t consider today a success until you’re wearing bright red lipstick all over your body. That reminds me, I think we’ve run out of wipes at home after the fingerpainting incident which was 100%  _ not _ my fault. Your daughter is a bad influence.”

Tissaia smiled in spite of herself, loving her casual use of the term 'home'. She raised up on her toes so that she could get her chin over Yennefer's shoulder and avoid getting foundation on her black costume. 

Despite its limitations on her early career, her deficit in height would be an advantage today. She was small enough that a woman partner would be able to lift her and she would not be as dwarfed by one as with male partners. The extra inches afforded by toe shoes were not available to her either. Tissaia hadn’t danced en pointe in years; although she had pushed herself beyond pain and endurance in her youth, she was now loath to risk injury. Her business and her daughter depended on her. Her girlfriend, well acquainted with her stance on foot strength, would’ve called her out on her hypocrisy until the end of time. Hence they would both be dancing in flats. 

As always they fit together well and the sheer comfort of being in her arms distracted her for a few minutes. Yennefer smelled divine, a fruity and sweet scent that she always wore yet refused to reveal the name of. Tissaia breathed her in and exhaled.

Yennefer whispered to her. "You're gorgeous. You know the routine by heart. Everyone out there loves you. It's going to be fine ok?"

Tissaia did know that. There was no reason to be acting scared to death over a studio performance in front of her friends, colleagues, and students. There was nothing riding on this. There was just her and her incessant desire for perfection. 

But this time she wanted it to be perfect for Yennefer.

They would be performing Yennefer's pas de deux, dancing together for the first time in front of an audience. Most of them already knew that she and Yennefer were dating but after this dance they would see everything Tissaia felt on her face. A videographer friend of Jaskier would be there to film the dance so that it could be shared on YouTube. There would be no hiding after this. It was tantamount to coming out to the whole internet, or at least to the whole ballet world.

Next week they were booked in for a two day photoshoot with BunHeads. Photos of her, Yennefer, and Sophie would be splashed across ballet magazines and websites soon after. 

Everything was moving so fast... 

The past two months had been amazing. The couple wasted no time fumbling their way towards intimacy, learning how to balance their intertwined professional and romantic lives. They had their first argument within days, which was to be expected between a hothead like Yennefer who bristled at every criticism and a fastidious perfectionist like Tissaia who could be blunt at best and cutting at worst.

Their relationship was full of highs and joys that Tissaia had scarcely known in her life before, certainly not during her marriage. It sometimes scared her how much she craved Yennefer's presence. They spent time together with Sophie (at home or on outings) and alone, having to wait until late at night when they could be sure not to be interrupted by the turn of the bedroom door knob. 

If anyone thought Yennefer was cocky before, it was nothing to the way she preened and flaunted being taken-off-the-market now. Already an incorrigible flirt, she was ten times worse in bed. But Tissaia knew where her insecurities were hidden and she made efforts to make up for very old deep fears of being unwanted and abandoned.

Back in the present moment, the embrace ended when Tissaia had had enough. There was very little time left now before the performance and she needed it to herself.

"I'll see you out there," said Yennefer, giving her hand a squeeze and placing a quick kiss on her lips. "I love you."

"I love you too." Tissaia stole another kiss, resulting in a nude stain on Yennefer's bright red-coloured lips. "Oh, lipstick, sorry."

"Don't be sorry. I love it when you ruin me."

As soon as Yennefer left time seemed to accelerate. Every second passed too quickly despite Tissaia pleading with them to slow down. Before she knew it she was walking into Studio 1 like it wasn’t her in her own body putting one foot in front of the other, inevitably leading her to what she dreaded.

Everyone was waiting. Jaskier was ready at the piano for the accompaniment, the videographer and his assistant were standing beside their tripod-mounted cameras, and the small crowd forming the audience were seated at the front of the room. The children sat cross-legged on the floor in rows. The tallest adult was a white-haired man dressed in head-to-toe black leather and he had a tiny blonde girl sitting on his lap who wore a little black tutu. Her senior students Triss and Sabrina were there. Sophie sat in the center of the front row, dressed in an identical costume to Tissaia’s, beaming and practically vibrating with excitement when she saw her mother.

All conversations ceased to a hush when she entered, all eyes on her. 

Yennefer was standing next to Jaskier, probably teasing him, but when she turned and noticed her she gave her a smile and a tiny nod before taking her place on the floor ready to begin the dance.

Tissaia’s heartbeat surged as she took her own starting place. She sent a subtle nod to Jaskier to begin.

With the first notes sounding, time began to move at its natural pace again. Her mind calmed the instant she took the first step, and the rest of the chorey flowed out of her like water. She forgot about the audience -- indeed, she forgot about everything except Yennefer and the steps that brought them together. Every turn, every movement, every lift was executed well. Yennefer’s eyes followed her around the room, serving both to check in with her and as part of the story -- lovers caught in a push-pull relationship, who only had eyes for each other even when they were apart. 

Before she knew it Tissaia was draped across Yennefer’s arms and being lowered to the ground in the poisson dive. They held the pose. The applause started before the final notes from the piano faded. The dance was over.

After a few seconds Yennefer raised out of the pose and set Tissaia’s feet back on the ground, still with her arms around her. Before they turned to the audience for curtseys, Yennefer took the opportunity to whisper “Perfect” into her ear. As exhilarating as it had been performing on stage for the Royal Ballet, Tissaia thought this was better. She’d gotten to dance with the woman she loved in front of her daughter and their friends. They deserved this moment.

“It’s not perfect yet,” said Tissaia, casting a sly glance at the camera and then one at Yennefer. 

Curiosity tinged Yennefer’s smile. Tissaia grinned back. It was a thrill to have something in mind that she couldn’t predict. A gift for the girls they had been and the girls like them who would one day watch this. The applause increased with cheers when the audience realised what was going to happen.

Tissaia raised up on her toes and kissed her, fully intent on stealing the red off her lips in the very place they’d met all those years ago.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Glossary  
> Attitude - one leg in the air bent at approximately 145 degree angle  
> Devant - (direction) to the front
> 
> It turns out that my wish has been granted! There is a choreographer who has choreographed a pas de deux for two women en pointe!  
> https://www.theguardian.com/stage/2021/feb/10/ballet-queer-dancers-redefining-an-art-form-adriana-pierce

**Author's Note:**

> Glossary of ballet terms
> 
> Barre - horizontal wooden bar that helps dancers balance during exercises  
> Tendu - extend the leg with the pointed foot on the floor  
> Sickle - unattractive misalignment of the ankle and toes when foot is pointed. Ankle should be forward of the toes not behind.   
> Ballet flats - leather or canvas slippers worn for technique training. Young and beginning dancers wear them exclusively until moving to pointe shoes when they’re old enough (age >11 years) and when foot strength is well-developed  
> Pointe shoes - ballet shoes with wooden box in toe to allow dancers to dance on tips of their toes (en pointe), usually light pink satin secured with ribbons around the ankles. Expensive to buy, must be broken in before use, and wear out quickly.   
> Relevé - rise up on toes  
> Penché - lean forward with one straight leg on floor and one leg extended straight behind (arabesque that is above 90 degrees)  
> Eisteddfod - dance competition  
> Giselle - main character from the romantic ballet Giselle (dies heartbroken after being betrayed by the man she loves)  
> Odile - antagonist from the ballet Swan Lake (black swan maiden who is opposite to the white swan Odette)  
> Danseur - male dancer


End file.
